The Spirit of Paradise
by Rosie Real
Summary: Dracula falls in love with an elf when he is human... then he gets turned. Chapter 15 now added!
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** Shyriyh is pronounced (shah-rye-ah)… do not ask me why it is spelled that way… it just it… .'

Prologue:

Count Vladislaus Dracula

As the elf reflected on her losses, the tears continued to fall. She sat in the liberation field surrounded by European soldiers. She sobbed for her family, she sobbed for her friends, and she sobbed for everything lost in the twelve-year siege. Her mother, her brother, her father, and her grandparents from both sides… all were murdered by the Turkish army under the Rumanian siege. They took everyone… even the Rumanian nobles! The only surviving noble was the seventeen-year-old count of Transylvania. She had seen the soldiers crowd around a young man, calling him 'Count' so Shyriyh figured that _he_ must be the single remaining noble everyone was talking about. She was rather annoyed that all the soldiers were interested in was a foolish count when the rest of the recently-liberated captives were just as bad if not more sick and hurt than him. He in fact didn't seem all that hurt. She hadn't really gotten a good look at him but he looked fine… She started crying again when she began to think about the injuries and pain remembering how badly the Turkish soldiers had beaten her mother before she finally died. She let out an anguished cry before jumping in desperate fear of the random hand on her shoulder. Upon looking up she discovered it was the young Count. She was suddenly not a captive of the army but a captive of his sharp features and long, black hair… it rather reminded her of a lovely blackbird feather. "It is over now. Many have lost those close to them," he said in a rather deep-for-his-age voice and thick Rumanian accent, "but we must go on for their sake and avenge what hath been wrought upon them." Shyriyh felt her pale cheeks go crimson. "Do not cry young lady. Go on home and show the world you are a survivor. Show them your resilience. You shall not be a toy of those meaning harm. Go on now," he said as he pointed to a coach, which was guarded by a few Rumanian soldiers. She nodded and ran off towards it. There was a group of five other elves peering at her as she entered, then a light chatter in many diverse Elven languages. Finally one young woman looked up at her and said in perfect Kaernian (the language of Shyriyh's forest), "Are you not Lady Kaernia, Princess of your village?" Shyriyh fell crimson again. "Yes, I am Shyriyh Kaern," she told the woman. "How awful they should take a noble elf!" She wailed. Shyriyh nodded just to agree. "Who was that man you were with?" Another elf asked. "That was the Transylvanian Count!" The young woman said. "He's a human!" Another put in. "He is too lovely to be human!" The young woman added. "You wouldn't happen to know his name, would you?" Shyriyh asked as she gazed out the coach's window at the Count who was helping other people into different coaches to be taken back to their villages. "I believe his name is Count Vladislaus Dracula, Count Dracula," the young woman told the red-faced Kaernian Princess. "Count Vladislaus Dracula," and that the last Shyriyh saw of the beautiful count for twenty-two years…

Chapter One: 1461

A Count's Revenge

"Darling! You look positively gorgeous!" Shyriyh cried to her best friend, Sequoia. "Thank you, I hope he likes it…" Sequoia said happily as she admired her new silk wedding gown. "I am sure he will simply _adore_ it," Shyriyh assured her friend. "Are you ready?" One of the host elves called from outside the bedroom door. "Yes! We are coming! Prepare the bells!" Shyriyh, the maid of the Redwood (equivalent to the maid of honour in human marriage rituals) called out.

Shyriyh followed behind Sequoia and her lover, Milane, as they walked hand-in-hand into the Sacred River. The maid and masters (sort of like bridesmaids and ushers) stopped at the riverbank as Shyriyh's uncle, the Lord of Kaernia, placed identical wreaths of water lilies on each of the lovers' heads. "You are blessed by the mist of the Sacred River," he recited from memory (as all Lords were supposed to do). "May you bless nature with that mist and each other with your love," he continued. "You are now in the mist together, forevermore. Commence," he commanded and the Elven lovers removed their lily crowns, kissed them, and replaced them on the other's forehead. Finally they bowed to their knees, becoming waist-deep in the river as the Lord of Kaernia sprinkled the sparkling blue water onto them. "Blessed be forevermore," he said. "Blessed be forevermore," the lovers repeated as they stood.

"Sequoia's so lucky," Shyriyh muttered to herself that evening as she lay in bed looking out the window at the two lands. The Kaernian forest was half in Turkey and half in Rumania. She suddenly jumped when she saw a small explosion from the Turkish lands. There was a mad shout as she watched a man clad in black carrying another man out of a village hut and impaling him on a stake in front of his house. Shyriyh gasped as she ran out of the Kaernian Palace to join the other elves in staring out at the wreck one of the huts had become. "Who is that? What are they doing?" She cried towards her uncle. "I believe it is the Rumanian Count," he said. "And I think he is getting revenge."


	2. Chapter 2 Nature Appears

Chapter Two: 1461

Nature Appears

Shyriyh ran as fast as she could towards the Turkish village. She had not forgotten the young count. Had he not given her words to live? Had she not thought of him at least once a day since first laying eyes upon him? And had she not repeated his name to herself nearly every night as she fell asleep? She would _never_ forget.

"Count! Count Dracula!" She wailed as she raced towards the battle scene. There were at least thirty Turkish soldiers surrounding the Count and the human man was fighting them off quite well with a mere sword. He looked towards her before brutally stabbing a man to death. "Stop!" She cried. "Why are you doing this!" Shyriyh sobbed as she ran into the circle of soldiers. "Do not advance! She's an innocent!" The leader of the soldiers commanded. "I am avenging the deaths of my loved ones," the Count said with no tone, but the same deep, accentuated voice Shyriyh remembered and adored. "Do you not remember me, Count? I am Lady Kaernia, Shyriyh the elf. You comforted me on the liberation field so many years ago… do you not remember your words?" She sobbed, praying her love remembered her. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I remember." The remaining six soldiers watched intently, hoping that this mystery woman could calm the bloodthirsty Count. "I shall take him!" She announced. "He must be executed!" One of the soldiers shouted. "No! We must get back to Rumanian land!" Shyriyh cried to the Count. After all these years of waiting she could not bare to lose him again. "Ah!" She screamed as the soldiers advanced on them. The Count held up his bloody sword to defend this forever-young Elven Princess. "No! Do not kill them!" Shyriyh cried. Instead she lifted her arms. A large electrical current blew through the air, knocking the soldiers unconscious. "Come now!" The Princess called to her Count. She grabbed his hand and ran into the Turkish-Rumanian bordering woods. "What are you doing!" He shouted as they ran. "Keeping you from getting killed!" She cried. "I do not care for it is revenge! Revenge for the siege as you must know is very well earned!" He roared at her. "Please!" She cried. They stopped running once they had hit Rumanian soil. "My dearest Count, I have never forgotten that day that you comforted me. I will be traumatized should you be killed. You are a human—a delicate creature. Please… leave nature to avenge your losses. I did," she told him as she squeezed his hands ever tighter in hers. "Count Dracula, it is your name, yes?" She asked. She could swear she saw a slight smile on his face before he answered. "Yes. I am Count Vladislaus Tepes Dracula. And you are Lady Shyriyh Kaern of the Elven Forest, Kaernia. No?" She nodded. "Please, allow me a walk with you to your castle," she inadvertently begged. "I shall allow it," The Count said as he began to walk down the dirt road surrounded by lovely willows that wept in perpetual misery. He led her up a path that opened into a castle, which was right on the edge of a dangerous cliff. It was the creepy, dark castle she could always see from the guest bedroom window. The one that protruded sadistically from the trees. "_This_ is your castle?" She asked in awe. He nodded. She had always wondered who lived there… and what a surprise! Her long, lost love! _Why had I never bothered to check?_ She thought to herself with a quiet snort or laughter. "I suppose I shall take your surprise kindly?" He asked. "Oh indeed!" She assured him. "My palace… there," she pointed across the trees towards a large palace that was made from coral, but looked like ivory. "Ah yes, those are the Kaernian woods after all," he realized with a slight look of confusion of his face. "Would you care to come inside, young lady?" He asked. "Shyriyh!" Before she could answer she saw her uncle running up the hill. "Shyriyh! What are you doing here!" He asked nervously. He was so worried when she ran off… "I was just walking the Count home," she said. Her uncle looked nervously at the dark human man. He was tall and deathly beautiful. His hair had not changed in the long twenty-two year range that Shyriyh had missed him. It was still midnight black and shiny like ebony despite his age of about thirty-nine. "I think the Count is able to walk himself home. He is an adult after all… come Shyriyh. It is bedtime," he said as the Count glared at the Elven Lord. "Good evening then," the Count said with a slight bow before he walked into his castle. "Wait!" Shyriyh called. He turned back around, his tall military boots tapping lightly on the cold stone floor. "Shyriyh!" Her uncle scolded. He was afraid that his delicate niece would get too attached to this older man and begin to… well… you know the possibilities. Not to mention the fact that he was human! An elf and a human? It seemed unspeakable at the time. "Please, come to my palace anytime you wish, Count. In fact," she began. "Shyriyh! It is time to leave!" Her uncle interrupted, his heart beginning to pound heavily. He had prayed to his brother, who was now in the spirit world, that he would watch over Shyriyh as if she were his own child. He could not let her be… well… raped… taken and whatever else have you by this dark, murderous Count. "Come by soon! Please!" She called as her uncle pulled her by the hand back through the woods. "I will see you around, Count!" She called back with a wave before disappearing into the forest. The Count tilted his head with innocent surprise and smiled slightly for the first time in years. "Likewise," he said as he walked again into his castle… this time letting the large font door close behind him.


	3. 3: And Then The Wind Shall Call Thy Name

**Chapter Three: 1461**

**Then The Wind Shall Call Thy Name**

_Shall I walk through open skies?_

_Open fields shall not I cry?_

_Mayhap through gardens with no shame?_

And Then the wind shall call thy name… 

Shyriyh giggled happily to herself as she combed her hair that evening. She felt… well… like something special since looking once again into the eyes of the Count she so longed for. "Count," she tried as she looked into her large mirror, which was encircled by golden faeries. _Too formal_, she thought. "Count Dracula?" She asked her reflection. The reflection seemed to smile without her at that suggestion. "Please Darling, call me _Vlad_," she tried to deepen her voice in an attempt to make it feel like he were actually speaking to her. "Shyriyh?" Her little brother poked his head into the room. "Agh!" She jumped and tossed her conch shell comb across the room. _Figures he should walk in at that moment,_ she thought to herself. "Who are you talking to?" The tiny elf child asked. Shyriyh smiled innocently at her brother. "No one. Just saying to myself how luck Sequoia is… Milane is quite charming. So, Renolyn… why are you in my room?" Her demeanour switched quickly from dreamy to annoyed big sister. "Well I heard you talking and I was wondering if you had someone in your room," Renolyn said. "Just trying to get me into trouble, eh you little snoop?" She said provocatively. Her little brother grinned with pure Elven innocence. "No," he said as he held his hands behind his body and stepped slightly to the side. "Liar, get out of my room. You must be getting to bed," she commanded. "It is late and we must be up early tomorrow." Renolyn groaned. "Why must we arise early, Sister?" He asked in his sweet voice that made Shyriyh forgive all his mischief. "Sequoia and Milane are leaving to the Crystal River Forest for their Post-Matrimonial Vacation," she said, "and we must see them off." Renolyn groaned again before walking out without a word. Shyriyh turned back to her mirror. "Do you think he will ever ask me to call him Vlad?" She asked her reflection.

The Count lay awake in his large bed of red silk and black satin. His mind was on the forest. How odd… the Kaernian Forest. He had the strange yearning to visit it but in his adynamia he could not remember exactly why he felt such a compulsion. The compulsion to be where the willows wept in perpetual misery… where the rivers showed the faces of those who walked hand in hand… where the wind called the name and sang songs of the one you loved… how lovely it all seemed and yet… it didn't seem real. "Why… I shall come soon," the dreary Count muttered as he fell into a much-needed sleep.

"Come now Renolyn!" Shyriyh shouted into her little brother's bedroom the next morning when the sun was only just awakening. "Ahhh," he groaned and turned over in his large bed, made only for a prince. Shyriyh had to literally drag her little brother out of bed to get him downstairs. "Shyriyh!" He moaned as she pulled him by the hand out to where her best friend and her lover stood. "Sequoia!" She called as she walked out to where her Uncle stood with the new couple. "Shyriyh!" The two friends embraced. Next Shyriyh walked over to Milane and curtsied. "May you have a wonderful time," she said, "both of you." Milane bowed. _He bows much deeper than the Count,_ Shyriyh though oddly. _He seems much to desperate… I like a man with much confidence,_ she didn't even really notice her mind was chattering along with no one as she spoke with her friends. "I am going to miss you so!" Shyriyh cried as she hugged Sequoia for the last time. "As am I to you," Sequoia said in her beautifully accented voice. She was not from Kaernia, but the Princess of the Crystal River Forest. Milane was a noble from the Starnight Forest. Both came to Kaernia for a vacation, met, fell in love, and decided to stay longer before returning to their origins. "Good bye! I shall see you soon!" Shyriyh called as the coach drove Sequoia farther and farther from her.

"You seem awfully happy for someone whose best friend just left for an entire month," Renolyn said as he watched Shyriyh put on a straw sunhat with a beautiful pink ribbon around the head. "And why are you getting so dressed up?" He asked. Shyriyh just giggled before walking out of her bedroom door past him. "I am going for a walk," she said simply. "In your Sunday best?" He asked suspiciously. "Yes," she concluded. He looked at her again suspiciously. "I want to come," he said. Shyriyh's mind cracked suddenly. "No!" She roared with a very not-like-herself voice. Renolyn shrunk back. "Fine, but be back before dark or else Uncle will kill you," he said as Shyriyh skipped out.

The Count shielded his dark eyes against the sun as he walked out of his sizeable palace. He stared hatefully at his plants that never seemed to want to flourish. He was about to walk around to his little lake on the side of his castle when he saw a young woman running up the walk in a light creamy-coloured dress. He couldn't see her face underneath the sunhat but he was sure it was the Elven Princess. She was really the only one brave enough to come up to his castle… alone at least. He felt a strange warmth in his chest when she lifted her head to reveal her lovely face. Her deep dark eyes shined in the sunlight. "Count!" She called out happily. "Lady Kaernia?" He walked closer to her so he could see through the vicious sunlight. "Yes, it is I! I said I would see you soon!" She told the graceful Count as she walked up to him. "Indeed you did," he said. He didn't know she meant _that_ soon. He was… well… rather glad and he suddenly knew why he wanted to go to Kaernian Forest. He wanted more than to hear the wind call her name.


	4. Chapter Four: A Single Rose

Angel of Beauty, thank you so very much! (¡Muchas Gracias!) I hope you like the coming chapters! And I think I am to read your stories as well! (I am a big Van Helsing fan to!… Dracula )



SpeedDemon315, ¡gracias a ti, tambien! I am so excited that people actually like mi stories! And my combos (I was afraid people say things bad combo! Bad combo! Elves and Vampires? Please…) so ¡muchas gracias a todo!

**Chapter Four: 1461**

**A Single Rose**

I'm really Rosie

And I'm Rosie Real

You'd better believe me

I'm a great big deal…

-Maurice Sendak

"Hello!" Shyriyh could not believe she was seeing him again… so soon. She always imagined that she would remain single for all her life. For some reason she thought that no man would ever love her (despite all the eyes she got in the village that she never noticed…). However when she looked into the Count's eyes she thought maybe she saw a tint of… of… _joy?_ She thought as she approached him. "Relief?" The Count said. She jumped. "How did you know…?" She felt her heart beating hard in excitement and a bit of apprehension. "I have my ways," he said with a smile. She could not think of anything to do or say to one she wanted to keep forevermore. "Would you like you come in out of this ferocious sun, Princess?" He asked with a slight bow and a motion towards the large, wooden front doors of the castle. She giggled nervously. "P-perhaps for a moment," she said as she followed him in. She felt like screaming in joy and frustration. Her thoughts were spinning… was the Count as crazy about her as she was of him? Was he really the wonderful man she thought he was? What would her uncle think if they _did_ fall in love? Her mind chattered endlessly. "Perhaps you would like some tea?" The Count asked. Shyriyh smiled. _Good start_, she thought, _I love tea_. "I would love that, thank you much," she said. He bowed slightly again before exiting the room. She took the initiative to sit down at one of the chairs near the door. The Count poked his head delicately out from the doorway. "Advance many paces directly straight and you shall be in the dining hall. I am to meet you there," he said with another smile that Shyriyh was afraid she would never see.

She nervously began to walk forward. When she hit a set of large, oaken doors she pushed them open and walked into the dining hall. The table was huge! (Something only the extremely rich could afford to _fit_ in their homes… she didn't think it would even fit in her palace…) She was amazed when her mind stopped talking to see that the room was brightly lit with many golden torches and silk hanging from the walls. "He has a graceful taste," she muttered to herself as she sat down in one of the large chairs at the end of the table. The cushion, she swore, was pure satin. "Why thank you kindly," the Count said as he walked out holding a tray of tea and biscuits. She giggled in humiliation. It seemed to be a curse that she held… people always seemed to walk in when she was talking to herself. _Maybe I should _stop_ talking to myself, _she thought with a snort. "You are very welcome. I wish to thank _you_ for treating me," she said with a smile. The Count smiled as he placed her tea in front of her. "You are very welcome, anytime… I get very lonely up here," he said. "So please feel free to visit whenever you wish," he said. She felt her heart skip at least two beats. He _wanted _her there? "I-I will come certainly," she said. "My palace gets very lonely as well," she assured him.

As they sat drinking their teas, Shyriyh (whose mind worked quickly but madly) tried to think of something to break the silence. "How old are you, my darling?" The Count asked. She smiled: he broke the silence. "I am sixteen, well… I am actually thirty-five… just… Elven body stays young forevermore," she said. "Thirty-five eh? I am thirty nine, we are not very far apart, yes?" He said with a tilt of his head. She giggled madly, "No, no we are not," she said with a smile that was anything but empty. "How would you like me to show you around the grounds someday? There is a beautiful lake just around back and the woods are lovely," he said. Shyriyh felt her heart might explode with all her excitement. This was the first time anyone had actually _asked_ her for a courting… "I would _love_ that!" She said with more stimulation in her voice than she intended to bring out. "Tell me though, when would we do this?" She asked. The Count tilted his head again, "Mayhap this evening? If you are not in occupation," he suggested. She nearly burst out of her seat. "Indeed, I am free!" She cried happily. "Meet me here when the sun is not yet asleep," the Count said before finishing the last of his tea. "I will," she said. Her tea was already gone. "Oh my!" She cried randomly. "What is it?" The Count asked as he walked closer to her. "I am to be home soon, my uncle thinks I am on nothing but a walk," she said. She summoned all her courage before she ran out. Using the recently acquired courage she reached up, kissed the Count on the cheek and ran out. "Good day!" She cried. "Good day," the mesmerized Count said as he waved rather nonchalantly.

The Count cleared the table and walked into the kitchen. He touched his cheek lightly. No one had ever done that to him… not even his mother. His parents were far too strict to ever show affection. Sure they would whack him into place when he did wrong, but never a hug when he did right. His father was a Count, and his mother was the Princess of Transylvania. They were both very strict.

_"Vlad! Vlad!" the senior Count roared as a five-year-old Vlad Dracula ran bouncily into the room, his tiny face lit with a smile. "Father, father look!" The young child cried excitedly as he ran towards his father holding out his hands. In his mini palms he held a small green lizard that he had found in the woods. Young Vlad always loved animals. "What is that?" His father asked angrily. "It is a lizard, father. His mommy was killed so I adopted him. Isn't he sweet?" The child asked as he looked hopefully up at his glaring father. "It is repulsive. Get it out of my house. Now or I shall whip you!" He roared angrily. Little Vlad cringed as his father swiped at him. He turned and ran out the door sobbing lightly. The poor creature had no mother… what else was he to do?_

Shyriyh skipped happily into her palace that afternoon. "Why are you so giggly?" Her uncle suspiciously asked as he looked up from his book. "It is just so nice out," Shyriyh lied. "I get very happy when it is nice out," she pointed out the window at the moderate sun. Her uncle raised a brow at her before she ran upstairs.

She sat back down at her mirror and continued to comb her long, chocolate coloured hair endlessly. She felt that is was too messy when she first saw the Count today. She continued to fancy herself up before she heard a creak from her door. Jumping she turned to see Renolyn standing in her doorway. "Renolyn, what _is _it?" She asked angrily. "There's a man at the door to see you," he said. He got the little brother delight when Shyriyh's eyes widened… just to cause a reaction is bliss in a little brother's head. "Who is it?" She asked, although she thought she knew who it was. "I do not know, he says his name is Vlad," Renolyn said with a disgusted emphasis on the Count's name. "What's the matter, you do not like that name?" Shyriyh asked as she followed her little brother down the stairs. "It is a weird name," Renolyn concluded.

"Shyriyh, why is _he_ here?" Her uncle asked as he led her to the front door. "I-I don't know," Shyriyh said innocently as she approached the Count who was standing in the doorway in a very concealing black cloak. "Count Dracula, what a lovely surprise!" She said as she took his hand and led him into the palace. "How did you get in here?" Her uncle asked hatefully. "You are a human," he said. The Count looked out the door before Shyriyh shut it. "The guards let me in… I told them I had very important news for the Princess," he said. Shyriyh could tell her uncle was cursing his foolish guards as they led the Count into the kitchen. "Would you care for something to drink?" Shyriyh offered. "No thank you. I have actually come with dire news," the Count announced. Her uncle glared at him before speaking. "What news is this, Count?" He asked with a perpetual scowl on his face. "The Turkish army has invaded Rumania, they are planning a second siege," The Count said. "Oh my!" Shyriyh cried. "They are planning to storm the Kaernian forest as well," he said. Shyriyh took his hand again. "Is there anything we can do? Anywhere we can hide? Count, I wish not to be taken again. It was terrible!" She cried. The Count nodded. "Do not worry, my Lady. I shall not let them take you again," he said. Shyriyh's uncle suddenly broke and grabbed his niece. "No!" He shouted. "_I_ shall watch over her. She is my responsibility!" The Count looked oddly at the Elven Lord. "Your majesty I—" he began before the Lord interrupted. "Be gone!" He shouted, "and shall I never see you near my niece again! Be gone!" The Count looked terribly surprised. "Uncle!" Shyriyh cried. "No!" She grabbed the Count before he could exit. "Let him go, Shyriyh! Good riddance! He is a horrible man who will do nothing but use you for your riches and beauty!" Her uncle scolded. The Count looked rather amused at this. "I beg your pardon?" He said with a raised brow. "That is correct!" The Elven Lord cried, "you are a terrible human who will hurt my niece in many ways. You leave her be!" The Count looked more surprised this time. "Uncle! How racist!" Shyriyh shouted. She felt as if she were disobeying her Elven placidity. "Count!" She called as the lovely man began to exit in anger. "I am going with the Count, Uncle!" She called as she ran out with him. "Shyriyh no!" Her uncle attempted to grab his niece but she was too fast. "If you are smart you will hide our people from the oncoming siege! And do not speak of the Count that way!" She called as she followed the ghostly Prince out.

"My dear, perhaps you should stay with your people," the Count said as they walked down the path towards his castle. "No, Count… I cannot bear to lose you again. I shall protect you," she said as she took his hand gently. He looked at her before wrapping his fingers around her hand. "You are the only elf I have ever met who is not afraid of humans," the Count said quietly. "Well… I am not just any elf… I am the only one in bloom apparently… the rest cannot see what splendor a man such as yourself can hold." He smiled at this. She glanced a quick look into the river as they passed it and saw a happy couple walking hand in hand… how lovely.

The Count led her towards his palace. "Your garden is beautiful," she said as she admired his flowers. "That is not a garden, they just grow there… I cannot seem to get any of my herbs to grow there however," the Count said with a slight smile. "Look, here is some thyme," she said as she pointed to a tiny green plant growing next to a rambling rose bush. "Hmph," the Count stared at his stubborn plant. He still couldn't see roses on it. "Still no roses," he muttered. The roses seemed to make his eerie castle look more livable. "No, look. There is one," Shyriyh said as she pointed to a single little rose blooming near the thyme. "The only one in bloom," the elf said to her human love with a smile.


	5. Chapter 5 A Love to Stop Time

No L: ¡Gracias! I am so very glad you like it so far! (And I am glad you wish for more!) I always worried people would no like my story. Hope you get this and enjoy the chapter next!

Angel of Beauty: Thank you for being a constant reader! (I have always wanted to have one of those… I have read so many books where they say "Dear Constant Reader…" so pride!) ¡Más Gracias!

Chapter: 1461 

**A Love To Stop Time**

Your love has got a handle on my mind,

Sweet as cherry, fine like wine…

Gonna' love you till the end of time…

-Vanessa Paradis "Your Love Has Got A Handle On My Mind"

"Do you think they will do it again?" Shyriyh asked in deep nerves as she watched out the Count's dining hall window at his lovely land. She hoped it would not be destroyed… _oh please Mother Nature… please, I beg of you, do not let it be so…_ She prayed silently. The Count looked over at her from his place at the head of the table. "Have no worry, Princess. I have spoken with many other Counts and Lords and they have already had many armies made to defend our land in the future," he said with a reassuring smile that pretty much said he knew what he was talking about. "Do you have an army, Count?" She asked in awe. "Indeed I do," he assured her again, "I shall not let our people be tortured any further." She smiled with heat flowing into her cheeks. She could not believe she was actually in the Count's home… at night… without "parental control" as her uncle called it. Hey… she was an adult now… right? She could do what she wanted now… r-right…? She also could not believe that she was… well… _welcomed warmly _into his home. How dream-like!

"Do you think your uncle will come looking for you?" The Count asked rather apprehensively. Shyriyh smiled warmly. "Probably not. He must stay with my little brother. The worst he will do is probably send some pages for me," she said, this time it is to be _her_ assuring _him_. "Good. I shall admit I would rather like it if you stayed," he said with a smile as sweet as cherry and fine as wine. "I would rather prefer it that way as well," she admitted to him. She felt she knew him so well… even though she had only met him days ago… he was the reason she lived without contempt. He was the reason she _lived_. Lived without fear and misery. He was her all. Her Strawberry Spring and Midsummer's Eve wine shower. Her single rose she prayed was indeed as red as it seemed from far away. She was getting closer and it seemed to be… "Tell me about yourself, Count," she said. She realized that she needed to know him. She _saw_ him, sure, but she wanted to _know_ him. "I uh… do not know what to present," the Count said with an oddly timid laugh as he looked down at the golden table. Shyriyh giggled with admiration. He could be handsomely mysterious _and_ adorable… how wonderful. "When, where, and by whom were you born?" She asked. "I am thirty-nine so uh… I was born in 1442. I am a native Transylvanian, and my parents were Count Vlad Dracula and Princess Vina Lisa Dracula," he said with another timid smile, as if he didn't like speaking of himself. "What do you enjoy doing?" She asked, her elbows on the table supporting her chin. She was enjoying this. "Umm…" The Count's pale cheeks turned a slight red as if he were under interrogation. "I enjoy… reading," he said pointedly as if proud he was actually able to think up an answer. "I enjoy… um… walking in the woods… and… the rain," he said as he looked out the window at the delicate shower that had begun to fall. "The rain?" Shyriyh turned to look too. "I like to walk in the rain," the Count confirmed with a smile. Shyriyh smiled as well, "I rather like it when it is sunny, but there are some circumstances when I like the rain," she said. The Count looked deeply at her. "Is this one of them?" He asked as he stood. "Indeed," she allowed him to take her arm and lead her outside.

"I do so like to walk under Mother Nature's gentle tears," she said as they walked under the sobbing sky. He looked thoughtfully at her. "Is that how elves view the rain?" He asked. She nodded as they walked around to the side of the castle and down the steep hill. "It is, we believe the sun is Mother Nature's smile and the rain is her tears," she explained as they walked down towards the small pond he wished to show her. Shyriyh felt suddenly rugged as her hair melted onto her face with the rain. She looked over at the Count whose hair seemed to stay in the same position as before, only a little matted. His raven-black hair was long, to the middle of his back perhaps. He had it tied at the very tip of his hair so it looked half up and half free.

He pointed towards the lake. "You are en elf. You must know how to swim, yes?" He asked. "Of course I do!" She said excitedly as her smile grew to comic size. "Race you!" She called as she began running towards the water. One of Shyriyh's favourite things to do: race people… she loved to run… especially if she could derive pride from it… The Count stood for a moment in confusion before running after her. She beat him by many feet so she stopped and waited for him. He ran up next to her and attempted to stop, but slid in the mud and fell directly into the lake. Shyriyh burst into uncontrollable laughter as she watched him poke his head out of the water. "You forgot to take your clothes off!" She said as she stepped in too, soaking her dress. He laughed with her and took her in as she walked closer to him, wrapping his arms around her willowy waist. She put her arms around his firm chest and squeezed tightly, holding him in an embrace. She could not believe how little time it took her to fall this deeply into her love for him. Perhaps it was all the years of waiting…? She looked up at him as he looked down at her. He smiled and kissed her forehead. She giggled as he moved down and kissed the tip of her nose. Her heart began to beat insanely between the moment he kissed her nose and her lips. She had never kissed anyone like that before… would she mess up? She suddenly was only afraid that she would bite him by accident. He kissed her gently and lovingly. Not too violent, but not too lightly. When he finished he backed up and looked down at her for an hopefully pleasant reaction. He got one. She shrieked happily and hugged him around the chest. "I wish it would rain forever," she said with a smile. "We could stay like _this_ forever, I want time to stop!"


	6. Chapter 6: Red Moon Gypsy

Angel of Beauty: I shall thank you again! (I hope to make this common thing to thank those who review on chapter next…) so DEAR CONSTANT READER, heh-heh… I got to say it. Gracias again! I hope to you get to continue to read and like coming chapters!

**Chapter Six: 1461**

**Red Moon Gypsy**

With a long and slender body  
And the sweetest softest hands  
And we'll blow away forever soon  
And go on to different lands  
And please do not ever look for me  
But with me you will stay  
And you will hear yourself in song  
Blowing by one day

-Suzanne Vega "Gypsy"

The Count smiled as he pulled off his wet outfit. He could still hear the rain falling innocently outside and hoped that during the following morning it would still be falling. He opened his closet and pulled out a similar black costume. However alike, it was less militant looking. It was a pair of simple black pants and a white, wispy shirt. Over the shirt he was to put an overcoat just like his military outfit. Black and white suited him well. It suited him as if he were a mime. A quiet creature with seemingly much to hide and sadness to bear alone. Yet happiness was soon to come. Or was it already here? He contemplated with himself as he slipped the black pants on over his damp but perfect legs. He felt a strange shiver as if in warning from his chest. "Count?" He jumped when Shyriyh peeked into the room to see him shirtless. She couldn't bear to take her eyes away from his gorgeous chest that seemed to be drawn by a talented artist without mistakes… "I-I'm so sorry," she said, but still did not look away. His red cheeks darkened as he slipped the shirt on over his head. "It is quite alright," he said as he added the overcoat to the mix and walked out with the Elven Princess. She was wearing one of his older, smaller outfits that was still too big on her. The outfit consisted of long, black pants that went down to the floor on her and a thick black cloak over a white undershirt. All was very heavy and confusing unlike the simple Elven sundresses she was accustomed to wearing. The Count led her into a bedroom that was gently lit with elegant lanterns hanging from the ceiling and picturesque torches on the walls. The bed was sensually covered in red silk that seemed to shimmer in the dancing flame light. Across from the bed was a set of drawers. "Once your dress is dry we may put it in there, and anything else you acquire while staying here," the Count said as he opened one of the empty drawers. "You are free to explore. The washroom is right there," he said as he pointed a strong hand towards a small door of oak with designs of the archangels on it. It was rather… unnerving.

Gabriel stared at Shyriyh menacingly as she walked into the room to get washed up. He was threatening her with something… and she wasn't quite sure what exactly…

She slid off the Count's clothing and stepped gently into the bath of warm water heated by an unseen flame below the floor. She let her body be engulfed by the water as she picked up a cloth and began to scrub her silky skin. She wanted to present a perfect elf to the Count.

The Count walked into his own washroom and threw his clothes off before deciding to fold them neatly and place them by the door. Next he slid down gently into his own warm water wishing something that his mind dared not speak. He feared he would become as the Elven Lord had said… he rather _did_ want to make love to Shyriyh. He would love to see her here next to him… without her dress on. Her silky skin caressing his own. He would love it so, although he feared to mention it. He smiled in exhausted bliss as the heat enflamed him. He fell into a heat-induced sleep as he slid deeper into the water. His shoulders were now covered.

Shyriyh walked out of the washroom to find no Count. She wondered if he had gone to bed for the hour was late. She knocked on his chamber door. There was no answer. Her heart started to cry out nervously in her chest. She began to think radical thoughts of things that could not very well have happened. _What if the Turkish soldiers stormed the place and captured him?_ She thought nervously to herself as she opened his chamber door, which was a large oaken thing that took most of her arm strength to push. She wanted to be sure the Count wasn't just sleeping peacefully before she let herself fly into a flurry of nerves and heartbeats. She walked over to his bed and her heart skipped at least two beats when she noticed he wasn't there. She looked up and sighed nervously… that however was when she noticed the steam still emanating from beneath the washroom door. She breathed another sigh—this one of relief—and walked over to the door. She knocked and waited to hear his gorgeously deep voice respond with assurance. When she didn't hear that she began to panic again. _What if he drowned?_ Her mind cried to her. "He's not that foolish," she told herself, "he wouldn't drown in his own washroom." She knocked again, this time a bit louder… and still got no response. "Count?" She asked as she opened the door gently. She couldn't see through all the steam so she walked towards the bath, which was a large indent in the floor covered in glassy tiles. "Count?" Her heart ran faster as she approached a still body in the water. She had the sudden, odd, but scary fear that he _had_ drowned… She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. She could feel him breathing… so she leaned forward and looked at him. Took him in. She'd wanted to see him this way… for longer than she should have. She stood and walked to the other side of the bath before the inevitable happened: she slipped. "Oh!" She slid forward on the mist-covered floor and into the bath right on top of him. "Agh!" His heat-induced sleep was painfully interrupted by a falling elf. He gasped as she struggled to get up, his clothes, which she was wearing, getting soaked. "I am so sorry!" She called as she grasped the edge of the bath and pulled herself out. "I'm so very sorry Count, I just wanted to be sure you were well… I did not hear an utterance of any sort," she tried frantically to explain herself as he slid stealthily out of the bath and his behind his clothes. "M-my Lady, it is quite alright," he tried to assure her while simultaneously attempting to put his clothes on without her seeing. He was curious as to why she didn't leave… "No, no!" The Elven princess cried, "I _am_ sorry! I just," she began. "I know," he interrupted. He put his hands on her shoulders once he had succeeded in getting his clothes on. "You just got worried. I apologize for I must have dozed in the heat of exhaustion," he told her. She felt the red in her cheeks grow darker when he embraced her. "I am sorry," she said again. "It is quite fine, you are a female after all and we are not so different in age," and with that he left the elf standing in deep confusion. "W-what?" She tried to follow him out but he was gone. "Where…?" She looked up and down the hallway after running out of the washroom and his quarters and could find again no sign of her Count. "He's like a ghost," she muttered to herself as she walked down the hallway towards her bedroom.

"We have much to do today," Shyriyh heard above her head. It was the voice that seemed to cover her in silk like her blankets. "Count?" She opened her eyes wearily a few morns later to see a darkened room and rain still falling… just as she knew the Count was hoping for the past three days. "Arise for it is late and we must be off," he said with a gentle smile. Shyriyh knew that if she were to touch that smile it would be worlds softer than her silk sheets. "Where are we to go?" She asked with a teasing smile… she knew exactly where they were going. "Do you remember the ball we are to attend in celebration of June's coming Red Moon?" The Count said with the same smile. She sat up and smiled before embracing him. "Thank you greatly," she said as she squeezed him ever tighter in her strong grip. "For what?" The Count asked. "For inviting me to your lovely ball. I shall be honoured to be courted by you," she explained to him in a seductive tone, which she surprised herself with greatly. She was surprised how attached she had gotten to this man within the five or six days of knowing him… and yet—she knew him all along. She knew she did. She knew him all the time and loved for just as long. She would love him until infinity… past then even. "I am glad you are in such joy of it," he said. "Shall we prepare?" He took her hand and led her out of her room and into his own. "I have found this for you. I had my servants clean it and it is ready to be worn by a princess," he said as motioned her towards his wardrobe. "I wanted to keep it as a surprise until tonight when you are finally ready to put it on but I could not. So treat thine eyes, present," he tore open the wardrobe doors with such boyish pride that Shyriyh could not help but smile. He seemed like a child trying to please one he admires. She looked up and gasped when she saw the gown he had picked out for her to wear. It was a lovely ice blue with a darker shade flowing down the creases of the skirt. It was sleeveless but the neck was full and it covered the manikin's whole chest except for a small slit just above her cleavage where a necklace lay in the shape of Shyriyh's celestial ruler: Venus. It was a lovely golden symbol of her beloved planet with a dark blue jewel in the centre that matched the streaks on the skirt. The tiara on the lovely manikin's forehead was the same gold with similar blue jewels dabbing the tips of the crown. She suddenly wondered how much this dress had cost him. "Count… it is beautiful… it leaves me… breathless," she said as she turned to look at the Count who was in one of his envisioning modes: he was imagining her in the dress… "So, shall we gather the coach and head off. It is a long ride to Budapest," he said as he shook of his vision. "It is in Budapest?" She asked. "You mean your father's palace for the summers?" The Count nodded. "Indeed, he left it to me in his last will and testament," he said with a slight bow of his head. Shyriyh smiled and strung her arm around his as they walked out. A tiny, girlish, young woman in a sweet but childish dress came skipping into the room to gather up the dress and load it and the other necessities into the Count's coach. She was rather angry when her mother sent her to work as a _servant_ but she decided after a few years of working for the Count that she really didn't mind being so… in fact she couldn't complain. He treated her like a great friend and he paid her handsomely…

"Such a lovely coach," Shyriyh said as she examined the golden and silk interior of the Count's carriage. "Why thank you, this as well was my father's. He… sort of gave me my luxurious life. The only thing I do is keep it together… I owe him about ten percent of my happiness," he said with a smile. Shyriyh smiled too. "And to whom my dear Count do you owe the other ninety percent?" She thought she knew the answer but she wanted to hear him say it. He grinned widely, he knew she knew… and she wanted to hear him say it… he'd be glad to say it. "You," he told her. She smiled and reached a hand across the coach to touch his just as the carriage began to move. "Where did you say you had other palaces?" She asked. The Count had to think about this for a moment. "I have my home in Transylvania… my summer palace in Budapest… I have an estate in England… that was my mother's… and another estate in France… that was also my mother's," he said… trying to mentally count out if that was all his homes. "Wow," the young Elven princess said. "I have only traveled as far as Ruse in Bulgaria… and you have traveled Europe. I wish to go with you someday… to travel the world we will. We shall be gypsies you and I," she said with a bouncing smile on her face. The Count smiled gently. "Indeed we shall. Perhaps we shall spend the rest of the summer in France, it is lovely there. We shall see," he said as they went off down the road.


	7. Chapter 7: Red Moon

Angel of Beauty: Or should I say constant reader? (I will never get over that… oh pride… heheh…) Here is another ¡gracias para tí! Please continue being a constant reader! (¡Gracias mi amiga!)

**Chapter Seven: 1461**

**Red Moon**

Dear Crimson Moon

In my midnight zone

Below red moon

A river all our own

Now we are home

In red we run on water

Now lead us home

-"Red Moon"

The Count held out his hand and helped Shyriyh step out of the coach once they had reached his summer palace.

"It is late noon now, so we should have a few hours time to prepare before the guests begin to arrive," he said as his Elven Princess walked daintily beside him. The tiny servant woman, Aysel, leapt playfully off the coach from where she sat with the driver, who was another servant. He was dark and rather handsome. His name was Nicholai and Aysel thought that if it was absolutely impossible to be loved by the God-like Count then Nicholai was certainly a good fall-back. They had already begun to make nice. Her thoughts were interrupted by the Count.

"Aysel, would you please accompany Princess Shyriyh into her quarters and show her to her belongings?" he asked rather than commanded, which Aysel always loved about him.

"Indeed," she said with a slight courtesy before leading Shyriyh off to find her dress. She watched as the Count walked into the palace first accompanied by his dark driver. Shyriyh suddenly wondered what his name was. He reminded her of a younger version of the Count. Both Aysel and the driver looked very young… teenagers at that.

"Here you are my Lady, you may prepare. Your dress has already been set in the wardrobe for you and the golden jewelry box is where your accessories have been kept," Aysel informed the Elven Princess as she walked out the door of the bedroom. "If you have any questions, please summon me from the library which is a mere three rooms down the hall to the left."

"Wait!" Shyriyh called out before the young servant could leave. She turned around and presented the princess with a welcoming smile.

"What is it, my Lady?" She asked. She was rather jealous of this woman but if it was her Count's wish for her to treat her well then…

"When will I be seeing the Count?" Shyriyh asked as her cheeks grew crimson. The servant struggled to keep her pleasant smile.

"You shall see him shortly. Once he is fully prepared he will meet you in here. You must give him alone time, my Lady. He is a male after all… and we are women… we get prepared separately," Aysel explained oddly. Shyriyh raised a confused brow and just nodded to agree as the servant walked out.

"Strange," she muttered as she stood up and walked towards the washroom.

After a nice, warm bath she walked over to the wardrobe and opened it with the same excited enthusiasm as the Count had when he presented it to her for the first time. She still couldn't get over how beautiful it was and she wanted to know how much it cost. The Elven Princess gently removed the dress from the lucky manikin and laid the heavy garment out on her bed. She stared at it for a moment before pulling off her light summer dress that the Count had bought her a day or two after she had left her Uncle's palace. She was so glad he hadn't come after her. He had however sent a page just to check on her. She felt rather foolish telling the Count that the man at the door was just someone coming to _check up on her well-being_… She was also glad that now she had a palace of her own… _"My home is now your home, my darling,"_ she remembered the Count telling her one evening before they left each other for their own quarters. She was rather disappointed that the Count hadn't invited her into his bed yet… _but then again,_ she thought to herself, _isn't it a bit soon for that? I mean it's only been about a week since you've been staying with him…_ Her mind rambled. She grinned a devious grin as she struggled to get the many-layered dress onto her little body.

Once she had finally gotten the dress on she walked into the washroom and did her hair while glancing constantly into the looking glass.

"Princess?" She heard from the door. Shyriyh poked her head out of the washroom with her hair half-up. "Princess, you do not have to do that. I have others to help," Aysel said as she and two other young women ran into the room.

"How do you want it?" The smallest one asked in a childish voice.

"Umm… How about… curled and loose?" Shyriyh suggested as the women moved around her head and began to pull at her hair.

"Which do you think is better?" Nicholai asked the Count who was sitting on his bed combing and re-doing his hair. The driver held up a costume that rather resembled the Count's militant outfit with more golden streaks, and one that was a black suit under a long, black and red cloak which once belonged to the Count's father.

"I like that one," he said pointing to his father's old celebratory garment.

"Then this one it is," Nicholai said as he put the other one away and began to undo the buttons on the costume for the Count.

"You may wear the other if you like it," he said to his driver as the dark man handed him his costume. Nicholai smiled admirably.

"I would love that indeed, thank you much Count," he said excitedly as he reopened the wardrobe and pulled out the Count's other costume. It was going to be a bit big on him since the Count was so much taller but he didn't mind. It was an honour to be wearing one of his garments.

"Which dress do you think Aysel chose?" The Count asked as he slid on the silk coat over his white, fluffy shirt.

"I do not know. But I hope she chose the white one. It is simply lovely," Nicholai said as he turned away from the Count to put on his own costume. He felt rather honoured to be preparing for the famous Transylvanian Count's annual ball… with the famous Count. He and Aysel were going to be attending their first masquerade party together and he was so very excited.

"I cannot wait any longer!" Shyriyh giggled to Aysel as they sat on the bed together doing each other's makeup.

"Nor can I. I bet they will both look absolutely stunning! Such gorgeous men!" Aysel said as she put the last of Shyriyh's blush on.

"Thank you much," the Elven Lady said.

"It is no trouble at all," Aysel answered. "Are you ready now?" She asked as Shyriyh stood up trying to straighten her dress.

"I am," she said as she sat down again with the newly straightened dress. "Will the Count be in soon you think?" She asked. Aysel sighed.

"I think he should be," she assured her with slight jealously peaking through. It subsided a bit when she thought of Nicholai.

"Come now," the Count said as he peeked back into the room to see Nicholai fixing himself up obsessively. The driver looked nervously back at the Count.

"What if I am not presentable enough for Ms. Aysel?" He asked with anxiety. The Count smiled warmly.

"You are finely presentable," he assured the dark man. "She will love it." The Count couldn't see why he was so nervous.

"You are so very lucky… you are naturally good looking," the driver said to the Count with a brotherly smile.

"Are you ready yet, Princess?" The Count said as he knocked lightly on Shyriyh's bedroom door.

"You may enter, Count," she called through the thick wooden door. She watched nervously as the handle turned and the door opened. She gasped when the Count walked in. He was dressed in the most gorgeous outfit… it was midnight black with a long cloak lined in blood red.

"Y-you look dearly handsome," Shyriyh told him as he walked up to the bed she and the servant were sitting on. He smiled with that dearly handsome face of his and held out his hand to her.

"And you look absolutely lovely," he told her as she stood and wrapped her arm around his own. "Come my darling… the guests are beginning to arrive," he said as he led her out the door followed by Aysel and the crimson-faced driver.

"Count Dracula!" The doormen cried in honoured surprise as the Count and his love walked arm-in-arm towards the main ballroom. They bowed their heads slightly as they opened the door for the lovely couple. Shyriyh smiled as her dear led her into the large crowd of marvelously dressed couples.

"Do you like the music?" The Count asked as he led Shyriyh in a lovely dance. She looked up at the woman on the stage-like setup who was singing an otherworldly opera.

"I love it," she said. It sounded like a story… a story of angst. Perhaps it was the story of the Count's life…?

As they danced around the many couples the Count got many a greeting. Shyriyh felt like Hermes. She could picture little wings on her shoes. She was a herald of love. Love to the Count indeed.

"What is this?" Shyriyh asked as she walked over to the table with all the food lined up on it.

"It is sushi. A Japanese meal. It is not very good," he said with a rather disgusted look on his face. Shyriyh picked a piece up and sniffed it before putting it bravely into her mouth.

"Ugh," the Count watched her in utter disgust as she ate it. She swallowed and smiled at him before taking another piece.

"I think it is tasty," she said. The Count smiled and laughed. She was such an odd woman and yet he loved her so very much. Him and her… so different and yet almost the same person.

Shyriyh looked up when the woman on the stage began to cry another mysterious tune. It was another story, Shyriyh thought. A story of the Red Moon in the sixth month. Shyriyh always thought June was the most beautiful month of all… the most mysterious. The one that gave birth to the most flowers. The happiest of moons.

"Shall we go out and admire what we are celebrating?" The Count asked Shyriyh as he took her hand gently in his own and kissed the gentle paw.

"Indeed I would love to do so," she said as he led her out onto the balcony of the ballroom. She stared up in awe as he pointed towards the full moon. It was redder than the blood he drew from the Turks… redder than the blood that was drawn from her mother in death… redder than all the blood that was soon to be shed in coming months. It was the Blood Moon. The Red Moon. One of June's beautiful births. The Blooming of the Blood Moon.

"It is lovely," she said as she leaned onto his sturdy shoulder. It reminded her of the stonewall outside her palace in Kaern. The one that has never fallen in all the four hundred years it has been present.

"Indeed it is," he said as he turned and looked directly into her eyes. He was telling her the story of the woman's cries. He was telling her what was hidden behind those dark eyes. And she was suddenly aware of how much torture he had felt following the siege. How little of his mind was left and how it had made him bleed. She saw the blood flowing through his eyes as he leaned down and kissed her with all the warmth he could derive from his tortured heart. Never in his life had he been able to get that much… it was always so cold. So very cold. And now this woman had given him a blanket to wrap around his shoulders when it became chilly… and hug him to make him smile. Yes… the Blood of the Red Moon needed to aid not. Shyriyh gave him all the warmth he would ever need.


	8. Chapter 8: No More His Song

**Chapter Eight: 1461 December**

**No More His Song**

My lover's gone…

I know that kiss will be my last

No more his song.

The tune upon his lips has past

I sing alone.

I will not watch the ocean…

My lover's gone.

No Earthly Ships will ever

Bring him home again…

Bring him home again.

-Dido "My Lover's Gone"

"Are you sure that's all you want?" The little servant girl asked her master as she began to prepare some food. He looked up from his seat at the table. He had his head in his arms.

"I am quite sure thank you. Anything else and I shall fall asleep in it," he told her as he yawned. Aysel smiled as she began to prepare plain toast for the odd Count. She didn't think she could bear to live without him. Even if she was just a servant to him… he was an angel to her.

"Vlad?" Shyriyh walked out into the kitchen wearing a long, red evening gown. It was short and low revealing a lot of her long, slender legs, and gorgeously muscular shoulders. The Count looked up and then back down as his face turned a light crimson. "What do you think?" She asked as she spun and modeled her new gown for him. She had just finished sewing it. The Count stood up and walked over to her.

"It looks positively lovely," he assured her as his cheeks turned ever more crimson. Shyriyh smiled and spun one last time before hugging his greatly drawn out chest.

"Why thank you. It was for you in the first place," She said as she looked up at him. He looked oddly at her.

"Darling, why—oh," he nodded with sudden understanding.

"Dear Count, _all_ lingerie is more men," Aysel put in with a giggle. "That's what Nicholai told me at least." The Count turned to her with a surprised smile.

"He said that?" He said as his smile grew. Aysel nodded. "Oh my, and have you demonstrated yours for him?" She nodded again.

"That's why he said it," she said and this caused the Count to laugh madly.

"Dearest Nicholai always has the most interesting things to say," he commented as the dark driver walked into the kitchen looking tired.

"Good evening, Count," he said as he bowed to his master. The Count bowed back, which made both servants stare in surprise.

"Good evening to you too, Sir Nicholai," he said before pointing to Aysel. "Dinner is being fixed. Do you desire anything specific?" He asked. Nicholai smiled. When he had first begun working for the Count at age fifteen, about three years back, his mother had told him that all Counts and Lords were very strict men and did not like to be defied or talked casually to. She had told him to _never_ speak casually to his master. It was always supposed to be formal… but the Count never made him feel this way. (Granted, that if his mother knew he spoke this way to his master she would cook him and eat him for dinner…) The Count made him feel like a friend, not a servant. He smiled again before turning to the Count.

"Whatever is being served is fine with me," he concluded before walking over to Aysel. Another thing he loved about the Count was that he allowed love to go on between him and the other servant. His mother had been very strict about leaving the other servants to their business and finding a woman on the streets. How lovely his mother could be…

He wrapped his arms around Aysel's waist and kissed her cheek lovingly.

"Good evening, Love," he said as she smiled and turned towards him. She seemed to glance at the Count for permission before kissing him on the nose. The Count walked over to the fire and pushed the two servants aside.

"Go to bed," he said. "You look rather exhausted… both of you, go on," he said as he play-threatened them with a hot utensil. Aysel smiled.

"Thank you so much, Count," Nicholai said before bowing and walking out with Aysel. She poked her head back into the room for a moment to wave a flirtatious good-eve to the Count who smiled and waved back. Shyriyh waved too and silently wished them well.

"Here you are, Darling," the Count said as he placed some chicken in front of her. She smiled and thanked him before placing a napkin on her legs. He sat down next to her and began to munch silently on his crispy bread. She wasn't sure why he ate such strange things… he just seemed to like them. Then again she was the one who experimented with steak and cocoa powder and liked it…

Shyriyh jumped when a little bat flew through the window and landed on the Count's shoulder. The Count jumped at first too but upon realizing it was only a little Flying Fox was able to keep from shouting.

"H-how did you get in here?" He asked the little creature who was trying to swipe a piece of his toast. The bat squeaked lovingly and began to make a little nest of his hair. "H-hey there," he said as he tried to pull it away from himself.

"Where did that little thing come from?" Shyriyh asked as the Count pulled the bat off his shoulder. The tiny flying fox clung to his finger upside-down as if still in its branch. "How sweet… she likes you," the Elven Princess said as she gently touched the top of the bat's furry, black, head. She ran her finger down its tiny orange body and then over its perfect black wings.

"How lovely," the Count said as he walked over to the window with his new little friend. "I adore bats. Such creatures as those of the night need love to guide them when all else fears them." Shyriyh began swooning.

_How wonderfully poetic he can be!_ She thought with a smile as the Count tossed the bat out the window. She jumped. "W-why did you—"

"Bats cannot fly off from a level area. They need to be given a little height," the Count explained as he watched the little fox spread its wings and fly off towards the crescent moon of the chilly December eve. "He should find a place to sleep now—it is too cold for him to be out," he said as he walked back over to the table. Shyriyh smiled. An elf couldn't help but feel love for those who had a genuine passion for animals and nature. And the Count was certainly worth passion.

"Aren't you cold?" The Count asked as he peeked out from beneath the many layers of blankets on his bed at the open window, which was allowing cold wind the blow in. Shyriyh shook her head after closing it as she climbed into the bed next to him.

"Not really, maybe a bit," she said as she cuddled up against his warm body. Humans were always warm, someone had once told her. Apparently their body temperatures run higher than that of elves. She loved it. It was only recently that she had been invited to sleep in the same bed with him and she was still not over how lovely his warmth felt. She was also not over how quickly she had begun to feel rather… intimate with him. She was usually timid but didn't mind changing in front of the Count. She just wished he'd be a little more open with her too. She wished that he'd take his clothes off once in a while around her… and… well… the like. She tried to keep her face from turning red at the thought… but it did anyway.

"Really, you look like you've got a fever now," the Count observed oddly.

"N-no… I'm just… a bit… you're very good-looking, has anyone ever told you that?" She asked randomly. The Count just stared at her a moment before answering.

"No, no one's ever told me that. But thank you. And you as well are very beautiful… has anyone ever told _you_ that?" He asked. Shyriyh blushed.

"No one like you… just family really," she said as she messed around with his white evening shirt. She wanted to unbutton it and make it look like a little slip… but it was too damn hard to get open. She stared angrily at the button before trying again to undo his shirt. He raised an awkward brow at her as she continued to struggle with his shirt.

"Can I help you with something, darling?" He asked her. She smiled up at him.

"No thank you. I believe I have it," she said as she simply ripped the button off. The Count stared at her with a rather questionable look.

"Oops," she said, "I think I slipped." The Count laughed before lying back and allowing her to pull open the gentle silk shirt. She looked deeply at his beautiful body before she was interrupted by a scream from the outside of the castle. The Count sat up abruptly, catching her as she fell off of him.

"What was that?" He asked as they both jumped out of the bed, the Count not seeming to notice his open shirt.

_All the more heroic_, Shyriyh thought as they ran down towards the stairs, which led to the front entrance. The Count threw open the large front doors to see a group of men struggling with Aysel who was beating at them.

"What in all Hell is going on here!" The Count roared when he saw the battle between four random men and Aysel.

"Count!" She screamed as the men began to restrain her. "Count, help me! Help! They killed Nicholai! They killed him! They're soldiers! Turkish soldiers!" The Count backed up slightly into the doorway.

"Vlad!" Shyriyh cried when she saw what the beautiful Count was carrying. His sword that he hadn't touched since that day the Elven Princess had first seen him in over twenty years. "No!" She cried as he raced out the door and lept off the stairs. He struck downward with his sword and killed a soldier by basically cutting him in half. "Wait!" The young elf ran out onto the marble landing and held out her arms. Aysel was dropped to the ground before she ran up towards Shyriyh. The electrical current, which she had not summoned since the Count had last touched his sword swam through the breakable December air and knocked all the men unconscious, including the Count.

"Oh Vlad!" She cried as she ran over to him. "I am so sorry! I did not mean to hit you too!" She cradled the limp man in her arms as Aysel ran down to the small battlefield.

"Count!" She cried as she pulled the bloody sword from his weak hand. "He saved me, he saved me!" She sobbed as she lay her tear-stained face down on his chest.

"Darling, please," Shyriyh said as she touched her love's face so very gently. "Please wake up."

"Please Count, please," Aysel added in. She touched his chest with same gentle love that Shyriyh gave to his delicate face.

"Wait," Shyriyh said as she leaned over him. "It's an Elven trick. If we want we can give energy through a kiss." She smiled and kissed her lover's nicely shaped nose before going down towards his lips.

"A-agh!" The Count choked awake when Shyriyh backed away from him. "W-wha—" He looked at his love with confusion.

"I'm sorry… you know we elves do not believe in killing… but I wanted to help you and Aysel so I…"

"Pulled the electric thing…" he completed. Shyriyh nodded.

"Yeah. I am so sorry," she said. The Count held up a hand, which excused her from striking him.

"Nicholai," Aysel sobbed quietly after her and Shyriyh had successfully gotten the driver's body and the Count inside. She hugged her love and sobbed.

"Aysel," the Count rasped. "Please do not cry Aysel," he said as he reached out for her. She took his hand and confided in him.

"Sir… I do not know what to feel. I loved him! I loved him!" She sobbed into the Count's chest.

Shyriyh joined the servant girl in her sobs. "Vlad, the poor man. Why would the Turks come back? Why?" The Count cringed in pain before turning wearily to her, still hurt from her accidental attack.

"They still want our land, they are still power-hungry and they will kill anyone they have to in order to achieve their goals," he said as he tried to sit up. He felt the weakness in his body subsiding a bit. "Nicholai, we shall give him a proper burial tomorrow," the Count said as he gently stroked Aysel's hair. The servant sniffed and nodded before standing up.

"I think I shall go off to bed," she said before walking out without a glance.

"Aysel, wait!" Shyriyh tried to comfort the servant girl but the Count stopped her.

"Let her go. Aysel has always used her time to herself as a convalescence," he said. Shyriyh nodded sadly.

"Vlad, I do not want another siege. I fear it so. I do not want you to be taken. I do not want you to be killed like poor Nicholai!" She sobbed as she buried her face into his chest. He stood up with a slight wobble before regaining complete balance.

"Come darling. We must get rest as well. The soldiers will not wake up for many hours, yes?" He asked her. She nodded. "Then we must get to our room now for tomorrow we have much work to do. I need to assemble the Transylvanian army as protection as well as contact the Father for a small funeral for Lord Nicholai," he explained as they walked off to their bedroom.

"But Vlad, what if you get taken or murdered or such before the army can arrive?" Shyriyh said as they walked into the room.

"Then fate will have it that way," he said. "But the chances of that happening are very low." Shyriyh choked.

"Whenever one says that it always comes true," she said trying to hold back tears for both her Count and for the lovely driver whose life had been taken too early. Well begun… too soon done.

"Darling, please. No more of this talk for tonight. I should rather speak of other things before my world turns into nothing _but_ a war," he told her as he placed a gentle hand on her lips.

She felt a tear slide lazily down her cheek before the Count wiped it away with his silky finger. "Please," he said before leaning down and kissing her. "Please." He set her down on the bed and lay down on top of her small body being careful to monitor where his weight was. She sighed to release all of her angst for the night because she was sure of where the Count wanted to go with his desires. He had discovered his intimate lover for her as well…


	9. Chapter 9: Five Minutes From Infinity

Angel of Beauty: Hola y lo siento I did not get to write thank yous! So Gracias again! And I hope you like this chapter… rather rated R and one of my more poetic dias… Gracias!

**Chapter Nine: 1461 December**

Five Minutes From Infinty 

_J'ai fini d'me chercher_  
Falling into your nest  
_Depuis qu'j't'ai trouve_  
I call it bliss  
_La meilleure personne en moi_  
For the best and less and the rest   
_Au fond c'est toujours toi_  
Nothing is quite like it use to be  
_Mon âme, mon amour, ma foi_  
Deep down inside of me  
_Les anges se passeront de toi_  
I'm done searching for myself  
_Reste encore au creux de moi_  
Since you're flowing in my rains  
_Cinq minutes jusqu'a l'infini_

_oOoOo_

_I am done searching for myself_

_Since I found you_

_The best person in me_

_At the bottom of things it's always you_

_My soul, my love, my faith_

_The Angels will get along without you_

_It still remains at the bottom of me_

_Cinq minutes jusqu'a l'infini_

-Vanessa Paradis "Bliss"

"V-Vlad," she gasped as he unbuttoned her shirt and began to kiss her chest, which seemed as if it were made of silk.

"I love you Shyriyh. Please do not think of me how your Uncle presents… I do wish to make love to you… but I assure you it is out of deep love," he muttered as he pulled her blouse off revealing her naked upper body. "I do not, of course," she said. Next came the skirt. Such a difficult task lovemaking could be sometimes… At least Shyriyh had the advantage of his shirt already being open. She took advantage of her advantage and pulled his shirt off quickly before he could move out of swiping distance. As he slid off her skirt and undergarments she worked on his oddly buttoned pants. She had the idea to just tear off the button again but she didn't think he'd like her destroying all of his garments… The Count smiled seductively when he noticed her struggling. He reached down and tore the button off for her. She gave him a smile too… seduced by his.

"Thank you," she said she finished off his garments and pulled the red silk blanket up over their free bodies.

"Shyriyh," he muttered in absolute bliss. She felt so wonderful all of a sudden when she suddenly realized she was no longer a virgin.

"We'll stay together forever… yes?" She said as she stroked his long, black hair, which was quickly coming out of his clip.

"Indeed we will, through war, famine, plague… even death. We shall," he said. He leaned down to kiss her and noticed all her hair across her lips. She giggled and wiped it away. Both of them had hair too long for this sort of thing… Once her lips were open he continued. As he kissed her she suddenly knew she was loved. Loved by him. Loved by her uncle. Loved by her only surviving brother… she was loved and it felt so wonderful. The Count made her aware of this fact. She could feel the love emanating from him like a fever… all his comforting warmth. From his body and his heart.

"V-Vlad," Shyriyh gasped in pure bliss as he played with her hair and kissed her cheek. She suddenly noticed that one of the torches was still burning. _To make it complete_, she thought as the Count caressed her neck with his silky hands. He suddenly looked up as if he had heard her thoughts. He grabbed a wine glass of water from the small bedside table and threw it at the torch. It shattered and the water immediately put out the flame.

"Complete?" He asked. She nodded and smiled although she wasn't sure he could see it. _He shall be able to someday_, she thought. _Ay, where did that come from I wonder?_ She suddenly got a chill from the thought and embraced the Count, begging him for his warmth. He gave it to her. Just as she gave it to him and he sighed in his own unbridled joy. He knew were the world was now. In the distance of the realm of bliss Nicholai sat coiled in the cobras holding his lovely one… singing to them to hold their own bliss…

…five minutes from infinity…

I'm a book in my dreams…

See how I love you feels…

Far from the ground below the sky

No way around is where we hide

Between the sound before the light

My love and I live and never to be found…

_J'ai fini d'me chercher_   
_Depuis qu'j't'ai trouve_  
_La meilleure personne en moi_   
_Au fond c'est toujours toi_   
_Mon âme, mon amour, ma foi_   
_Les anges se passeront de toi_   
_Reste encore au creux de moi_   
_Cinq minutes jusqu'a l'infini_

_I am done searching for myself_

_Since I found you_

_The best person in me_

_At the bottom of things it's always you_

_My soul, my love, my faith_

_The Angels will get along without you_

_It still remains at the bottom of me_

_Cinq minutes jusqu'a l'infini_


	10. Chapter 10: The Pale Horse

**Chapter Ten: 1462 September**

**The Pale Horse**

_Rev 6:1 I watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals. Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder, "Come!" 2 I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest. _

_Rev 6:3 When the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, "Come!" 4 Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make men slay each other. To him was given a large sword. _

_Rev 6:5 When the Lamb opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, "Come!" I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. 6 Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, "A quart of wheat for a day's wages, and three quarts of barley for a day's wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine!" _

_Rev 6:7 When the Lamb opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, "Come!" 8 I looked, and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth. _

"Here you go," Aysel said as she placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of the Count. He made a disgusted face.

"Miss Aysel, what _is_ this?" He asked. Shyriyh playfully smacked his shoulder.

"It is oatmeal. Very tasty," she said as she lifted her spoon and tasted a bit to prove to him that it wasn't poisonous.

She looked up when the servant girl walked over to the window and peered out at the Count's land. It had been over eight months since Aysel had lost her love, over eight months since the Turkish soldiers raided the Count's property, and about eight months was all it took to bring out the deadliest war in Transylvania.

"Sir," Aysel turned and walked over to the Count.

"What is it, Aysel?" He asked as he pushed his oatmeal away.

"They are battling on your land again," she said as she sighed and picked up her own bowl of oatmeal. The Count scowled and walked over to the window.

Outside were at least sixty men stabbing each other with swords and stakes. It was getting ridiculous. At least every other day there was a tiny skirmish out on the Count's lands, a few dead bodies left over and no one to stop it.

"Do you think it will stop anytime soon?" Shyriyh asked nervously as she walked over to the Count and strung her arms around his waist. She rested her head on his back before he answered.

"I do not think it be so," he sighed. "The Turks want to initiate another siege. They think Rumania should be their land and they plan on taking everyone in it."

Shyriyh felt a tear fall down her cheek and onto the Count's military uniform.

"Vlad, I'm really worried. They already raided the castle once… what if they do it again?" She said. She heard him sigh lightly before he turned around to face her.

"Shyriyh, my darling, I will have the military forces do all they can to prevent it being so," he said as he embraced her. It was then that the knock sounded from the main doors. That fateful sound… like the last beatings of the Count's pure heart.

"Just a moment," he said with a smile as he turned around and walked towards the doors. Shyriyh followed him out just as he opened them. A man was standing there. He was wearing a very long black coat and a hat. It blocked most of his face but Shyriyh could still see the lower half. He looked so very familiar…

"I am here to see Count Vladislaus Dracula," he said as he tipped his hat upward, showing his entire face.

"I am he. What is it you desire me for, sir?" The Count asked as he began walking towards the man.

"My name is Gabriel, and I am here to vanquish evil," he said with a sly smile.

"Are you a soldier, Sir Gabriel?" The Count asked with a nervous look to his face. Shyriyh could tell there was something wrong with this situation. She wasn't exactly sure what it was but she _was_ sure about the fact that she just wanted to grab her love and run back into their castle.

"No, I am a demon hunter," he said as casually as if he were telling the Count his name.

"A _demon_ hunter?" The Count said with a confused twist to his lovely face.

"Yes, that is correct and the Lord has sent me to destroy that which will become so," Gabriel said and it was then that Shyriyh saw the faint shadow of angel wings behind this mysterious man.

"The Archangel! Vlad!" She screamed but it was too late. Gabriel was able to form one movement out of two he was so quick… he pulled a long, silver stake out of his jacket and stabbed it into the Count's throat. "Vlad!" Shyriyh screamed. She attempted to send an electrical current at the Archangel standing before her but it was no use. He pulled yet another stake out of his jacket and stabbed this one though the Count's heart.

"You are to be what evil represents!" The Archangel shouted towards the dying Count. "You would have been King!" And before Shyriyh could attack him he disappeared as if mist. She paid no heed and ran straight for the bleeding Count.

"Vlad!" She lifted him in her arms and pulled the two silver stakes out before he coughed up blood onto her white dress.

"W-who…?" The Count rasped.

"Not now, my Love. Aysel!" She called the servant woman.

"What is it? Oh!" She nearly fainted when she saw her master lying on the ground, struggling for his last breathes.

"Aysel, go get the medical box! Go!" Shyriyh cried.

"Yes!" The servant girl ran on legs like feathers as the Elven Princess cradled her departing love.

"You shall be well again, do not worry, Vlad," she said as she stroked his silky face which had become as pale as newly fallen snow. No more should the Count see such a lovely sight…

"Sh-Shyr… iyh…" He coughed more blood onto both himself and Shyriyh.

"Shh," she said as she sobbed silently and held him tight. A moment later the servant girl returned with the medical box.

"Here," she said as she placed it next to Shyriyh and turned away from the scene. She could not bear it.

"Hold on, Love, hold on. Please," the Elf pleaded as the Count lay dying slowly and painfully. She took out a cloth and tried to stop the bleeding but it was no use. It continued to drip madly from his once perfect lips.

"Vlad!" She screamed in her own pain as the Count began to cough and choke. She tried to get his breath working again.

"Sh-Shyriyh—go away from here," he said with a voice that was slowly drowning in blood. His own blood.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"When I am dead, you must take Aysel and l-leave here, it is too…" he coughed a bit more blood before continuing. "It is t-too dangerous here," he said. Shyriyh burst into the tears she was trying to hard to keep inside.

"No Vlad, no… you will not die. I will take care of you, and we will get married soon. You said we should get married in June because June is a pretty month… and then we shall have that little girl you were talking about and, Vlad… I will not let you die," Shyriyh sobbed, knowing that no matter what she said there wasn't much she could do. That's what made her cry so much.

The Count coughed and choked until Shyriyh sat him up a bit. That was when the large amount of blood was tossed out of his stomach. He was bleeding inside… hemorrhaging.

"Vlad," Shyriyh hugged him tightly and could care less that his blood was running madly down her neck. "Vlad, Vlad, Vlad," she sobbed her so hard her eyes and throat hurt… but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything but her Count.

"I l-love you, I love y-you Shyriyh," the Count said with a peaceful smile on his face which hid all his pain. His heart was bleeding out and now he was numb. The only pain he felt was holding the knowledge that he would soon be leaving his love. The only person who had ever really loved him…

"I love you too, Vlad," she told him. "You are going to here that for the rest of your life," she insisted. But the Count shook his head wearily.

"Goodnight my darling," he said as he laid his head back on her lap.

"Vlad?" Shyriyh said, feeling a shot of dread beginning to drown her. This caused Aysel, who was sobbing as well, to turn around.

"Count?" She bent down next to the lovers, determined to overcome her nervousness about blood.

"Vlad?" Shyriyh shook her Count's shoulder gently and felt the heaviness of death about his body. Death.

_And hark! Shall come the pale rider… _

_Upon the pale horse…_

_When the Lamb opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, "Come!" I looked, and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth._

_-Revelations 6:7 of the Fourth Seal_

_Pale rider upon a pale horse and hark you shalst be called death to bring about such with plague, famine, and war. Pale rider upon a pale horse. _


	11. 11: He of the One Thousand and One Lives

**Chapter Eleven: 1462 September**

**He of The Thousand and One Lives**

Era Rosario Tijeras la de pistola, espejito y labial en su cartera siempre  
llena de vicio, sexo, balas, placer y dolor  
La de las mil y una vidas  
pam! pam! pam!  
Rosario  
Nunca amo ni la amaron

…

Rosario asi murio y en el cementerio nadie la lloro

-Juanes "Rosario Tijeras"

…oOoOo…

She is Rosario Tijeras… she of the pistol, illusions, and vulgarity. Her pack always full of depravity, sex, bullets, pleasure, and pain.

She of the thousand and one lives,

Pam! Pam! Pam!

Rosario…

Never loved nor was loved…

…

Now Rosario is dead and in the cemetery…

No one will cry.

-Juanes Esteban Aristizabal "Rosario Tijeras"

The Count looked up. He was in a dark room. He could no longer feel Shyriyh's warm hands on his pained body. But he soon discovered that his body was no longer pained.

"Count Vladislaus Dracula, the impaler," a deathly female voice sounded from somewhere in the dark room.

"W-who are you?" The Count said, readying his strong body for a fight.

"Do not fear, Vlad," a woman immerged from the dark with a young man standing beside her. The woman was tall, beautiful and pale. She had long, black hair and a face that suggested the Devil's beauty.

"L-Lucifer?" The Count became confused. This woman… could she be Lucifer in one of his many disguises? Or was the man next to her Lucifer? Was he really in Hell? He was pretty sure that the mysterious man's attacks had killed him… but what was going on?

"I am Lily," the death woman said. She didn't even acknowledge the young man next to her. He looked like a marionette. He was just standing next to her looking at the floor, not moving, not breathing, not speaking. Just standing. His hair was a dark brown colour and he had a face like a God. Or another beautiful devil. He had such sharp features and a demonic goatee. And yet he seemed like this woman's marionette.

"Lily?" The Count stayed cautious. "Who are you?

"I am the Queen of Hell," she said as she bowed slightly to him. "I have been watching you for quiet some time, Count Dracula."

The Count looked at her for a moment before staring directly into the eyes of the marionette man. He didn't even seem to notice the Count's gaze.

"I am here to offer you a deal," the woman called Lily said.

"And what might that be, your majesty?" The Count asked. He knew now. He had read about her. Lily… the Queen of Hell and sister of Lucifer. They shared Hell, it was split into two worlds: Lucifer's and Lily's. She was a beautiful demon according to his books.

"I will allow you another chance on the plane of the living," she said, "under one condition." The Count felt his knees begin to weaken.

"What condition may I ask?" He said.

"You shall be returned as a vampire," the demon woman said with a wave of her hand.

"A what?" The Count had never heard of such a creature.

"A creature that lives off the blood of others to survive themselves, you shall be the father of a new species of Hell Demon on Earth. Now," Lily motioned to the man next to her. The man suddenly looked up at the Count and walked towards him with very stiff, marionette-like movements. His eyes just stared forward as if he were blind.

"W-what—" The Count attempted to move but the man grabbed his arm and held him tightly.

"Turn him, Johnny," Lily said.

_Johnny? Lily? _The Count thought, _such strange names_…

"Yes," the man said with the tone of the dead.

"W-what? AGGGH!" The Count cried out in pain as the marionette man bit into his neck and licked his blood with pleasure. "N-no!" The man pushed the Count's face into his hand and forced him to lick his blood… and forced him to love it. "No!"

"Good job, Johnny," Lily said as she lifted the unconscious Count off the ground of her dark ritual room. "You did it right this time, now we'll have our own species up above." She turned and stroked her son's perfect face.

"I know, I know," Johnny said with the personality of a teenage boy in the body of the young man. His features looked more loveable when he wasn't under Lily's control in the ritual.

3 Days later…

The Count opened his eyes and looked up at the dark, overcast day and knew he was back in the land of the living. He stood up with a bit of a wobble but was otherwise alright. He suddenly began to wonder if he was dreaming. Next he glanced up and saw his castle, looking the same as always: dark, and yet somehow comfortable.

It was only then that he noticed the dried blood all over his front walk and the gravestone that stood nobly by his favourite willow tree. And it was only then that he knew he was never dreaming… it was real.

"Shyriyh," he remembered. He suddenly recalled her sad face as he died, slowly drowning in his own blood.

"Shyriyh!" He called as he raced inside the castle. "Shyriyh!" He wasn't dead, he knew that much. He could feel his solid body touching everything he past.

"Shyriyh!" He ran up to his bedroom to see if she was there and then he noticed the battle in the backyard. _No, not again,_ he thought as he peered out at the fighters and bodies out on his lawn.

"Sh-Shyriyh?" He suddenly noticed with a sick shock that the people fighting the Turks were not Rumanian humans… they were Rumanian Elves… and the dead body in the centre of it all… was Shyriyh. His love.

"No! Shyriyh!" He raced down towards the back doors and out into the battlefield. "Shyriyh!" He sprinted through the fighters and threw himself down upon her.

"V-Vlad?" He looked up and saw her smile.

"Y-you are alive?" He said, shocked and yet relieved.

"I am," she said as blood began to run from her lips.

"N-no… Shyriyh, why? Why did you battle?" He asked as a tear fell down his cheek.

"I wanted… to… to kill the one… the one that killed you… but you are back… h-how are you back?" She asked.

"Shyriyh, it is no matter, I will tell you all when you are well, for now we must get you inside," he said. He leaned over and tried to lift her when he felt a shot of pain stab through his back.

Suddenly he felt a monstrous roar come from his own throat as he grabbed the Turkish soldier who had shot him and threw him as if he were nothing but a tiny doll.

"V-Vlad?" Shyriyh looked hurt. Too hurt.

"Darling we must—"

"What h-happened to you?" She asked as more blood poured down her lips.

"Shyriyh, where are you hurt?" He asked as he examined her. He spotted a bloody hole below her breasts. "You have been shot," he said nervously as he tried to wrap the slit pieces of her shirt around it to stop the bleeding. He felt as if he had to hold himself back… back from—licking her wound… and loving it.

"Vlad… I do not want to die… I want to stay with you, I want you… h-here with me," she sobbed as he tried in vain to stop the bleeding. It was the same with him: she was now bleeding inside.

"Shyriyh, no, no," he said as her eyes closed. "No," he ignored the great battle going on around him as he embraced his love. His only love. The only one… who ever loved him. The only one who was now gone…

"Shyriyh!" He felt the same monstrous roar as he released her corpse and flung himself at another Turkish soldier. He grabbed the soldier with a clawed hand that looked nothing like his own gentle one, but dark, and almost… bat-like.

"You!" He roared at the soldier in a deep voice, deeper than his own. "You killed her! All of you!" He whipped the man across the field before grabbing another and biting anxiously into his neck. He knew what he was doing but it seemed… natural. His head was spinning and it seemed too dreamlike to be anything but… and yet he knew… it was real.

"Monster!" The entire army of elves and that of the Turks began to wail about a monster and despite the fact that he knew he currently bore wings, the Count didn't seem to notice they were shouting about him. It seemed too… natural.

The battlefield slowly cleared as the soldiers and elves ran from the monster.

"I am… a monster," the Count suddenly realized as he looked at himself for the first time in this body. His Vampire body. He felt another roar escape his throat as he took one last glance at his lover's body before swishing his wings and taking flight.

_I am a monster… I am not myself… anymore._


	12. Chapter 12: No Angel

Angel of Beauty: Hola y gracias. And aha, it continues on… heheh. Hope you like this new era. Gracias!

**Chapter Twelve: 1886 **

No Angel 

I know I can be afraid but I'm alive  
And I hope that you trust this heart behind my tired eyes  
I'm no angel, but please don't think that I won't try and try  
I'm no angel, but does that mean that I can't live my life  
I'm no angel, but please don't think that I can't cry  
I'm no angel, but does that mean that I won't fly

-Dido "I'm No Angel"

"Back!" The Count shouted at yet another villager who had come to his castle to destroy him. The man began to tremble nervously as he held out his silver stake.

"Come on, I am beginning to become bored," the Count teased.

The man held out the stake and thrust it into the Count's heart.

"AGGGH!" He grasped at his chest and screamed in agony. "Not," he stopped his act and grinned evilly at the man before pulling the stake out and tossing it aside.

The tiny man began to tremble even harder.

"Let me put you out of your misery," the Count said with a play-sympathetic smile as he advanced on the villager, licking his lips as he came.

"N-no, please—nooooo!" The man screamed in agony as the Count grabbed him and bit deep into his neck.

The Count dropped the man's limp body and walked casually wiping the blood from his lips.

"Vlad!" A woman with long, dark hair came flying off the ceiling as the Count walked into the main hall.

"Good evening, Verona my love," he said to her as she grabbed his shoulders and embraced him with her vampiric strength.

The Count smiled and flashed her and himself up to their bedroom. He always wondered exactly how the flash worked. It was like a more materialistic version of teleportation…

Verona giggled sadistically as the Count laid her down on their bed.

"Good day Vlad, very good day," she said as she gazed out at the cloudy afternoon. It was usually cloudy in Transylvania now. According to legend it hadn't been truly sunny for about four hundred years.

"Very good," he said as he pulled up her wispy, silk shirt.

"Ooh," two other women suddenly walked out of the darkness and joined the couple on the bed.

"Good girl," the orange-haired one said as she stroked Verona's hair. Good for exciting the Count…

The Count spread his wings as he stood on the top of one of the towers later that night. His three brides were out hunting and he felt like taking a simple fly.

He flew over the trees and down towards the lake. He swooped down and touched his body to the water before flying back up and soaring with a group of vampire bats that were enjoying the eve.

He looked up when three slender, white vampires flew towards him. Around them was a little group of about sixteen tiny gray bat-like creatures. His children. Using a spell given to him by the Queen of Hell's son, Johnny, he was able to have his children born undead, instead of dead. It made him rather… happy. Although he did not think he felt happy too often, this was one of the times he did.

"Vlad!" The orange-haired vampire called out as a few of her babies flew around their mother.

"Aleera," he made himself turn back into the human-like Count as he landed gracefully onto a secluded field. "Good eve," he said.

Aleera and Verona landed next to him as the brown-haired Marishka led her own children down with them. The babies squeaked happily as they greeted their father.

"And good eve to you as well," the Count said as he held out his arm, allowing one of Verona's babies to land on it. The child screeched something to him in the language of the bats. Her father smiled and tossed her upward so she could fly.

"Enjoy," he called out as the children flew off to hunt as the young female demon had told him.

"Yes, enjoy!" The three brides called out happily as they watched their babies fly off excitedly.

"I think I am ready, Vlad," Aleera said to her love as she held tightly to his arm. It was time for her birthing. As a vampire she could almost choose when she wanted to give birth. Whenever it felt right. And now it felt perfect.

"Lie," the Count laid her down on the field as the other two brides looked on. He always delivered the brides' demon children.

"Go! Fetch her some water, and some food! Go!" He commanded the other two.

"Yes, Master!" They cried as they quickly turned into their vampire forms and flew off.

"Fare well, sister!" Verona called down to Aleera as she flew off.

"We must find food and water," Verona said to Marishka as they flew above the little village below their master's castle.

"Yes!" Marishka shouted as she pointed down towards a lone man walking through the village.

"V-vampires!" He cried as the two brides flew rapidly down at him. Verona leapt down and grabbed him with her clawed feet. She bit into his neck and drank a bit of his blood to knock him out.

"Go!" She roared at Marishka, "go fetch some water!" She said as she flew back towards the field.

"Yes, sister!" Marishka said as she flew down the road towards the well.

She landed on the edge of the well and looked down into it.

"Hmmm," she muttered as she spotted a bucket to the side of the well. She grabbed it and dove down the well. She quickly swashed up some of the water and flew up out of the well. She looked quickly around and snatched a small wooden board and held it over the water bucket as she flew as not to upset the water.

"Verona!" She called as she flew into the field. When she looked down she saw Aleera lying on the field admiring the many tiny creatures flying unsurely around her. "I've got the water, Verona!" She called.

"Bring it here!" Verona called.

Marishka flew down and placed the bucket of water next to the Count who was covered in blood and a whitish-green slimy substance.

"Thank you Marishka," he said as he kissed her on the cheek and pulled his military coat off. He dipped in the water Marishka had delivered and began to clean Aleera off.

"Sister, such wonderful children," Verona said as she used a flowing strip of silk from her dress to wipe Aleera's face off. One of Aleera's new babies landed lovingly on Verona's shoulder. It squeaked in its bat-like language, making her smile.

"V-Vlad," Aleera took the Count in her arms and embraced him as he leaned over her.

"Congratulations my darling," he muttered softly in her ear as she released him. She smiled and looked up a Verona, the oldest.

"Yes, much congratulations," the eldest bride agreed.

"Indeed," Marishka, the youngest bride said as she caressed Aleera's beautifully curled orange hair.

"Come, we must get Aleera back to the castle," the Count said as he lifted his bride into his arms and transformed into his vampire form. He flew up towards the castle followed by his other two brides and Aleera's newborn children who were born with the wonderful ability to fly.

"How lovely," the Count said as he sat next to Aleera on his bed later that evening.

"Thank you so much, Vlad, thank you," she whispered for her lost strength.

He leaned down and kissed her before he felt the strange dizziness.

"V-Vlad?" She reached up and touched his face. "What is it, my love?" She asked.

The Count gasped and fell backwards. Aleera gasped as well and used the mental link the three brides bore to call her sisters in for again her lost strength.

"Hello, my name is Chantal," a child's voice sounded through the white mist. The Count looked around in confusion.

"Who are you? Where am I?" He asked the mist.

"You are in Rumania, of the new age and I am Chantal Lydie. Welcome," the child's voice suddenly had a face.


	13. Chapter 13: Sheri: A Sun Child

**Chapter Thirteen: 1886 Cluj-Napoca**

**Sheri: A Sun Child**

I'm gonna soak up the sun  
Gonna tell everyone  
To lighten up (I'm gonna tell 'em that)  
I've got no one to blame  
For every time I feel lame  
I'm looking up o I'm gonna soak up the sun  
I'm gonna soak up the sun

-Sheryl Crow "Soak Up The Sun"

"My name is Chantal Lydie," and the child emerged. Except she wasn't a child at all. She was a woman with a child's voice.

"Where am I?" The Count asked nervously as the mist began to clear. He could see a forest.

"You are Cloj-Napoca," the child-woman said. "I have summoned you here to meet someone," she explained. The Count felt a nervous jolt go through his body as he heard another heartbeat approaching.

"Count Dracula?" He heard the most familiar voice…

"Shyriyh?" He spun around to face his old love. "Sh-Shyriyh? H-how?"

"Shyriyh?" The girl with the long, brown hair and odd clothing said. "My name is Sheri Willis." The Count felt his unbeating heart sink deeper into his chest.

"I apologize, I thought—it is a pleasure Ms. Willis," he said as he bowed slightly to her.

"It is quite alright, welcome to Cloj-Napoca," Sheri said as she shook his hand timidly. The little French-sounding girl stood giggling next to them.

"You two appear to be an oddly good couple," she said. Sheri's cheeks turned red along with the Count's.

"So you say you summoned me here?" The Count asked nervously as the two girls led him through the lovely forest path.

"Indeed," Chantal told him as she leapt happily over a fallen log.

"Very good, and how do I get back," he asked with still a bit of nervousness rushing through him.

"You leave whenever you wish and come back whenever you wish," Sheri explained as she took his hand and helped him over the log.

"How?"

"By imagining where you were last and you will be transported back there. Then to come back you must imagine this place and you will be back, but you must concentrate hard," she explained, "use the flash teleportation that all vampires have."

"Ah," the Count looked at her as she walked ahead of him. Sheri could feel him watching her.

"So, umm… it is a great honour Count Dracula. I have heard so much about you," she said as she took his hand and led him up towards the quick-paced French girl.

"Ms. Sheri, you remind me so much of… an old friend of mine," the Count said as he admired Sheri's beautiful face. He had the odd idea that the girl was his lovely Shyriyh in disguise. She looked _exactly_ like her… _exactly…_ Perhaps Shyriyh was turned too… and just lost her memory or something…

"I do? Who is this old friend you speak of?" She asked.

"Just a good friend who passed away many moons ago," he said as he felt the painful charge in his chest when he remembered Shyriyh's death so many years ago.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she turned around and gave him a hug and a smile that would forever warm his world. She seemed so… happy. Just like Shyriyh.

"I am an elf you know," she decided to announce randomly but rather excitedly, as if she'd only just found out.

"A-an elf?" the Count stopped walking dead in his tracks and looked at her.

"Yeah, Johnny just told me recently, is that not fascinating?" She said. The Count felt another odd surge in his chest.

"You know Lord Johnny?" He asked, not able to fully pronounce the man's name.

"Yes, and I know Queen Lily as well," said Sheri.

"W-wait one moment, why are you—why did you not know that you were an elf?" He asked rather confused.

Sheri shrugged.

"I was born to human parents but I am an elf… and that is why it is strange. I do not believe I have any elf in my family," Sheri explained.

"Ah, and why may I ask have I been summoned here?" The Count asked as he continued to admire Sheri's face.

"Well, I said I wanted you to meet someone," the little French girl said as she giggled madly.

"Who is this you wish me to meet?" The Count asked, he rather thought Chantal wanted to introduce him to Lady Sheri.

"Me," the Count jumped when he began to hear another heartbeat.

"W-who are y—Countess Naiara?" The Count had read of her as well. She was supposedly the Countess of the Wolf Demons.

The Lady bowed to him. She was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. She was tall and slender with the body of Venus. She had eyes like a wolf's and a perfect, narrow, nose at perfect distance from her seductive lips. She was… perfect.

"It is I, and I have come to speak with you about the trinity," the Countess Naiara said to him as she straightened up.

"The Trinity?" The Count looked from Sheri to Chantal and then back to the Countess Naiara.

"Yes," Chantal said, "we need your help. Johnny has done a search and you are the one who has a positive link to Sheri's soul."

"A positive link? What is going on?" the Count asked, speaking mostly to the Countess Naiara.

"There is a demon after the Trinity's power, but mostly after Sheri because this creature can do best with elf power," she explained, "and we needed someone with a perfect to near-perfect link with her soul to be able to protect her for they will have the greatest effect of blocking the demon from her if they are that close to her soul," the Countess Naiara looked deep into the Count's spirit, "almost like… a soul mate."


	14. Chapter 14: Goddess of the Wolves

Angel of Beauty: Gracias again, I am glad you liked the last chapter. I hope also it is able to be followed… thank you.

SpeedDemon315: ¡Bienvenido! …back… Thank you for reading! (Other two characters? You mean the servants?) And I am glad you liked the cute moment… "It was love at first sight!" -KM. Gracias for your reviews!

**Chapter Fourteen: 1886 Cloj-Napoca**

The Goddess of the Wolves 

It's the Song of the Wolves

Their mantra how divine,

The Song of the wolves,

Their holy song

How fine

-"Song of the Wolves"

The Count watched the Countess Naiara's beautiful movements as she touched his chest… where his heart was supposed to be beating.

"You have a lovely heart," she said as she closed her eyes and began to envision.

"I have no heart… since," he stopped and looked away.

"Since her death," the Countess Naiara said as she placed her hand on his cheek and turned his pale face gently towards her. The Count felt a sudden chill in his lower stomach as he looked deeply into her eyes. He suddenly wondered if this lovely Lady of the Wolves was his incarnated love. His lovely Shyriyh. This gorgeous Countess.

"Lady Naiara," he said as he looked at her with a deep feeling of passion. "W-what… uh," he looked down as his face turned a strange crimson. It was odd… he hadn't blushed (or really thought he was able to) since he had become a vampire… and now… this woman…

"I am a Hell Demon, Count. I am Lord Johnny's lover. You must know him. Johnny Valentino, Queen Lily Valentino's son," the Countess Naiara said as the vampire in front of her continued to steal glances of her lovely face.

"O-oh… I kind of thought," she stopped him.

"You thought I was Shyriyh?" She asked. The Count nodded and looked away as Chantal and Sheri looked on.

"I will tell you, Count, I am not Shyriyh… but you are not far now," the Countess Naiara told him as she stroked his delicate face. He felt a tear run gently down his cheek. He hadn't felt so in over four hundred years…

"B-but—" The Countess cut him off again.

"No, no. You mustn't worry yourself so. Please. I tell you with all truth that you are so very close to your love… but I am not her," she said as she motioned Sheri and Chantal closer.

"Please Count, allow your hand to the holy Trinity and you shall find what you seek," she told him as she linked his, Sheri's, and Chantal's hands together.

"Where will I find the Trinity?" He asked, "and what am I to do?"

"You are only to watch Sheri. You will meet the third sister in a short while. For now, keep a close guard," the Countess Naiara said as she reached out and tied a silky black ribbon around his neck. Next she put her hand again over his heart. "Remember us," she said. He felt a rather pounding feeling in his head as a silver flash disturbed his vision.

"Vlad?" He opened his eyes and saw Aleera leaning over him as well as Marishka and Verona.

"Vlad, are you alright?" Verona asked in her deep, seductive voice as she lifted him up and placed him on the bed next to Aleera.

"Y-yes," he said as he gazed into the eyes of his lovely brides. He suddenly realized that he had been with them the entire time… his body at least… was it all a dream? The Countess Naiara? Was she just a dream? He reached towards his neck and felt no ribbon. _Remember us, _she had said. But it wasn't something to remember… just a dream. No ribbon.

"What happened to you?" Marishka asked as she bounced onto the bed next to him and stroked his pale cheeks.

"I… I don't know," he said as he allowed her to touch his chest and lie down on it. "Perhaps I just stood up too fast," he said as she began to open his shirt. "Vampire blood rushes much slower after all… since it is… coagulated and—" He tried to maintain his sophisticated demeanour while Marishka licked his bare chest gently.

"What is _this_?" Verona asked as she picked a ribbon off the floor. A black silk ribbon. _Remember us._


	15. Chapter 15: Siente Mi Amor

**Chapter Fifteen: 1886 Transylvania**

Siente Mi Amor 

Siente mi amor  
Una historia sin tiempo  
Que no tiene fin  
un amor como el nuestro  
no, ni nunca podra morir  
Quiero ser en tu alma  
un momento feliz  
te amare por siempre  
vivire dentro de ti

-Salma Hayek "Siente Mi Amor"

The Count lay serenely in his bed as the sun set and dusk began to awaken.

"Shyriyh," he muttered quietly as he sat up and slid off the bed. He walked down the hallway and towards the kitchen, not exactly sure of what he wanted to do.

"Verona?" He called out as he entered the dining hall. "Marishka?" He looked up at the ceiling to see if his brides were lounging up above the world itself. No sign of them.

"Aleera?" He walked into a few of the guest rooms and continued to search in a deep state of boredom.

"Hi!" The Count jumped around when a voice sounded behind him.

"Wh-who?"

"You don't remember me?" The marionette man who not so marionette-like anymore said.

"Y-you are Lord Johnny," the Count said as he bowed to the Prince of the Underworld.

"Man, don't call me _Lord_ Johnny… first of all… _Johnny_ just doesn't _go_ with Lord… and second of all… you know me. It's too formal. Just Johnny," the Prince said as he held out his hand towards the Count. The Count looked nervously at it for a moment before taking it and shaking it back.

"What brings you here, Lor—Johnny?" The Count asked. The Prince grinned a demonic grin before laughing with a boyish charm.

"I wanted to tell you that you'll be having the Lady Sheri staying with you," he told the Count who became confused.

"Lady Sheri will be staying at my castle? That is how I am to protect her?" He asked. The Prince shook his head, yes.

"Yup, I hope you don't mind," he said with an adorable smile. To the Count his face looked like that of Lucifer. So beautiful, yet so deadly. Bearing a dark, satanic goatee and, narrow black eyes with a sharp face. So lovely this man was. Yet so deadly. The Prince of Hell.

"I uh… I do not mind at all," the Count said with a smile as the Prince moved away from him. He held out his hands.

"Good, here you go," he said as a flash appeared. When the light faded, Sheri Willis stood looking very confused in its spot.

"W-where—Johnny!" She ran over to him and hugged him nervously. "C-Count Dracula?" Her head whipped around to look at the handsome Count.

"Miss Willis," the Count bowed to her as she walked closer to him, still bearing caution about all the stories she'd heard of him.

"Sheri, I want you to stay here for a little while. Dracula's going to guard you from the chimeras, okay," the Prince told the young elf. Sheri nodded and ran over to the Count. "See ya!" The Prince called towards the Count and Sheri.

"Where are you from?" The Count said, confused by the Prince's strange dialect and accent.

"Florida, America, Hell—down there it's the year 20,876!" The Prince announced as he disappeared in a mysterious mist.

"He can teleport because he is a Hell Demon, is that not fascinating?" Sheri asked, looking for anything to talk about. The Count nodded.

"It is."

"I wish I could teleport."

"Ah…" The Count bit his lower lip, not exactly sure how to talk to her. It was strange he thought because he had never had any trouble talking to women in the past four hundred years or so as the Vampire King… so why was he feeling so timid around this woman?

"Would you… like something to eat… or drink?" The Count suggested, hoping she would not be scared that there was indeed blood in the castle to be used as food. Sheri smiled towards him.

"I would love that. Thank you," she said as she followed him into the kitchen, admiring his flowing black cloak. "I like your cloak," she added in. The Count stopped and looked at her for a moment.

"Thank you," he said as he smiled with deep sincerity, turned and continued walking. Sheri felt a smile creeping up towards her lips as well. She let it free once she was sure the Count was not looking.

"What do you like to eat?" The Count asked as they sat down at the large dining room table. Sheri put her hand to her lips in thought.

"Umm… I am unsure… I love sushi," she said with a timid smile. The Count found his cheeks becoming hot again as a smile was suddenly painted onto his lips.

"Sushi? Strange, my old friend used to love sushi as well," he said as he stood and poked his head out a pair of large oaken doors. "Vanya!" He called, "would you care to make Ms. Willis some sushi, please?"

Sheri sat and listened curiously as a female voice called back, "yes master!" before the clinging and clanging began from the kitchen. The Count glanced at her and smiled before sitting back down.

"Um…" She couldn't think of anything to say. Then her mind muttered a question… _Are you married? _Her mind wanted her to ask the lovely Count.

"Yes?" The Count asked with a smile and she knew he was aware of what she wanted to ask. Sheri shrugged.

"Just wondering… I never heard if you were married… I mean… the Lord of all Vampires… and…" she trailed off as he stared at her with deep satisfaction. He knew he was right.

"Yes, I am married," the Count said, liking the disappointment he saw on her face. "To my _three_ brides," he decided to add, making sure she knew he wouldn't mind another. Ever since being turned he decided monogamy wasn't for him… it was a pleasant decision he thought.

"_Three_ brides?" Sheri looked a little surprised.

"Yes, _three_," the Count emphasized as Sheri's eyes took in his nicely chiseled featured.

"Oh… th-that's interesting… it's just that… well…" She didn't know how to answer, "well… uh… among elves we usually only marry one person… it's kind of fascinating how customs here work." She was a little disappointed that he was already taken with three women, while simultaneously wondering if he'd accept another.

_Do not get your hopes high, _her mind muttered, _he is a _Vampire, _the _King_ of vampires… he only wants _vampire_ women._ She felt like crying when this thought hit her.

"Here you are Ma'am," Sheri jumped when a beautiful young woman in a revealing white summer dress handed her a plate of sushi.

"Th-thank you," Sheri responded, not knowing how the woman got there. _Of course, she's a vampire too,_ she thought.

"Thank you Vanya," the Count said to his servant woman. The woman bowed and walked out.

"Thank you, Count," Sheri said as the Count gazed longingly at her.

"You are very welcome. I hope you do not mind if I dine with you," he said as the woman in the revealing white cotton dress reemerged from the kitchen carrying a wine glass full of a thick, red substance. Sheri knew immediately that it was blood and smiled.

"Not at all. I don't mind blood," she said as she put a piece of sushi into her mouth using the beautiful black and flowered chopsticks the servant woman had given her. The Count smiled.

"Thank you. Perhaps you would like to meet my brides after dinner?" He asked as he daintily sipped the blood from the fancy wine glass.

"I would love that," Sheri said as she put another piece of sushi into her mouth. The Count smiled with her.

"Are they… uh…" the young Elven princess followed the gorgeous Count through the halls of his castle, "going to hate me…?" She asked nervously. The Count laughed.  
"Why would they hate you?" He asked with a smile. Sheri shrugged.

"Well… because… uh… I am an elf… I did not think… I did not think vampires usually liked elves," she said as her cheeks turned blood red. The Count stopped walking and turned to her.

"Sheri, that is not true at all," he said as he put his hands on her shoulders.

"O-oh… I am sorry… I just thought," she felt the blood rising again into her cheeks.

"Remember that woman I told you about… that you reminded me of?" He asked her with a stern look to his beautiful face.

"Y-yeah."

"She was an elf," the Count told her. She nodded nervously.

"O-oh…"

"And I loved her." Sheri felt her heart freeze in her chest.

"Y-you loved her?"

Feel my love  
A story without time  
That has no end…  
A Love such as ours  
That shall never die  
I wish to be in your soul  
A joyous moment  
I've always loved you  
And for always I've lived inside of you.

Siente Mi Amor…


End file.
